CHAPTER FOUR

...Sereia's POV...

...----------------...

Sereia winced as the ramp of the dropship lowered, letting in the cool, sterilized air of Vanguard HQ. The scent of steel and plasma polish was oddly comforting—familiar. Bruised, half-conscious, and still reeling from Zayen’s psychic strike, her team limped back inside.

“Remind me to never volunteer for recon again,” Tov muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “My brain feels scrambled. Like an egg. A sad egg.”

“I think it’s always been scrambled,” Keira said dryly, elbowing him as she helped him down the ramp. “But sure. Blame Zayen.”

“Can you two flirt after the report?” Nael called ahead, grinning as he nudged Elira forward. “Move, tech gremlin.”

“I’m not flirting,” Tov protested.

“You wish,” Keira added with a faint smirk.

Sereia glanced back as Liri stumbled slightly. Thalen immediately reached out, steadying her with a hand on her elbow. His grip lingered.

“I’m okay,” Liri murmured, eyes still a little unfocused. “Thalen… I’m sorry. I wasn’t careful enough.”

“You’re not apologizing,” he said, voice flat but tight. “You made the call. It was the right one.”

Keira snorted. “That sounded suspiciously like concern, Thalen. Want me to log it in the official mission record?”

Thalen just glared.

......................

In the briefing room, the lights dimmed as Commander Vaelen Drax stepped forward, flanked by Lorenzo Venn. A holo-projection lit the center of the room—Zayen’s face, sharp and cruel, flickering in blue.

“You faced Zayen Severin Voss,” Vaelen began. “Leader of the Obsidian Veil. What you encountered today was only a fragment of what he’s capable of.”

Lorenzo took over, voice even and low. “His father, Arcadius Voss, once controlled the Outer Systems with a fist of flame. When he vanished, Zayen inherited the empire—and the obsession with domination. They call him The Severing Star for a reason.”

“Why?” Sereia asked, trying to steady her breath.

“Because he doesn’t just conquer,” Lorenzo said grimly. “He severs. People. Alliances. Civilizations. Until nothing remains but what he reshapes in his own image.”

The room fell silent. Elira’s fingers twitched at her side. Tov’s smile faded. Even Nael stopped teasing.

“And the team he brought?” Thalen asked, voice tense.

“Handpicked,” Vaelen replied. “Each one with unique abilities—Nyra Sol, illusionist and strategist. Rhaz Vorn, brute enforcer. Elen Sorrin, a tech prodigy.”

“Guess we met the welcoming committee,” Tov muttered.

Sereia clenched her fists. They weren’t just fighting rebels anymore. They were up against a force designed to tear them apart from the inside.

Lorenzo gestured, and the projection shifted—now showing a sprawling star map peppered with red-marked points. “The Obsidian Veil isn’t just a rogue faction,” she said. “They’re systematic. Each strike, each ‘welcome party’ like today, is part of a larger orchestration.”

“Their targets?” Vaelen cut in. “Quantum energy cores. Experimental AI hubs. Civilian outposts with rumored artifact caches. Zayen’s building something.”

“Elira,” Lorenzo turned toward her. “You decoded fragments from the last satellite relay. What did you find?”

The tech prodigy straightened. “They’ve rerouted data pulses from Theta-4, encrypted deep through Veil tech. My guess? They’re trying to reverse-engineer our quantum relay systems—maybe to hijack comms or scramble interplanetary coordinates.”

“They want to trap us in silence,” Sereia murmured.

“And use that silence to fracture alliances,” Thalen added, arms crossed.

“Wow, look at you two, finishing each other’s dread-filled thoughts,” Tov said brightly. “So romantic.”

Thalen shot him a cold glance. “Should I finish a plasma bolt into your knee next?”

“Oh, sir, threaten me with a good time,” Tov grinned.

Keira groaned. “If I hear one more joke from the peanut gallery, I’m cutting comms during the next drop.”

Nael leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing. I need peace from Tov’s voice anyway.”

“Oh, you love it,” Tov winked. “I bring levity. Light. Joy.”

“You bring noise,” Elira muttered without looking up.

“I bring spice,” Tov said proudly.

“You bring migraines,” Keira countered.

Liri let out a small laugh, one hand still resting lightly on the bandages over her side. “At least we’re all still alive to roast each other.”

Sereia smiled faintly, then glanced toward Lorenzo. “How do we stop them?”

The general’s expression hardened. “We disrupt their channels. Cut their data flow. Target their tech specialists—Sorrin, especially. Without her, Zayen’s network weakens.”

“And then?” Thalen asked.

Vaelen stepped forward. “Then we flush out the Veil base. And we take the Severing Star down before he plunges us all into darkness.”

Silence settled again, heavy but brimming with resolve.

......................

The meeting wrapped up with a low hum of tension still lingering in the air. As the lights brightened and the projection faded, chairs scraped against the floor and the team slowly trickled out of the command room and into the lounge bay just beyond.

Liri plopped onto the long couch with a dramatic sigh, cradling her side. “That’s it. I vote for a mission that involves naps and pancakes.”

Thalen sat on the armrest beside her, arms still crossed, but the slight furrow in his brow betrayed his concern.

“I’m okay,” she said gently, glancing up at him.

“You shouldn’t have taken that hit.”

“Thalen,” she said, tapping his boot with hers. “It grazed me. Not plasma through the heart. I’m still here.”

“You better stay here,” he muttered, before quickly looking away. Keira, leaning against the wall, smirked.

“Aww,” she cooed. “Did Mister No-Soul just express an emotion?”

Thalen shot her a glare. “Go hack something.”

“I will,” she said, grinning. “Like your dignity.”

Tov sprawled on the floor, arms behind his head. “You know what this team needs? A spa day. Like a good deep tissue plasma massage.”

“Your tissues are empty,” Nael deadpanned, tossing a protein bar at him.

“Joke’s on you,” Tov caught it with one hand and took a bite. “I’m still the prettiest.”

Elira raised an eyebrow. “Delusion. Stronger than your armor.”

“Oh?” Tov leaned toward her, grinning. “And what does your lovely heart whisper, Elira?”

She stared blankly. “That it wants to malfunction and eject me into space.”

“Romance is alive,” Nael muttered, sipping from a flask. “And limping.”

Amidst the laughter, Sereia sat cross-legged on the floor, fingers tracing glowing patterns on her medical gauntlet, recalibrating the settings. Caius stood nearby, leaning against the wall just beside her, silently watching.

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” she asked without looking up.

“No,” he answered simply.

“You always say that.”

“That’s because it’s always true.”

She looked up at him then, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not untouchable, you know.”

His gaze softened. “Maybe not. But I don’t break easy.”

Sereia tilted her head slightly. “Still. If you ever do, I’ve got you.”

There was a beat of quiet between them, the noise of the others fading just a bit.

“I know,” he replied, voice low. “And if you fall, I’ll make sure you rise again.”

“Cheesy,” she teased.

“True,” he said.

Across the room, Keira narrowed her eyes. “Are they doing the ‘eye-contact and intense silence’ thing again?”

Liri perked up. “Yep.”

“I give it three more chapters before one of them cracks.”

Nael smirked. “Depends. Do confessions count if they’re whispered mid-explosion?”

Tov raised a hand. “I volunteer as background soundtrack.”

“You’re the last thing I want to hear during an emotional scene,” Keira said.

“I still can’t get over it,” Liri mumbled, fiddling with the edge of her jacket. “Zayen’s team… they didn’t even flinch. Like they’ve done this a hundred times over.”

“They probably have,” Thalen muttered, still brooding. “They moved like a unit. No wasted movement. No hesitation.”

“They weren’t just skilled,” Sereia added quietly. “They were… calibrated. Each one of them played a specific role like it was second nature.”

Nael scoffed. “And they had the audacity to look good doing it. That illusionist—Nyra, right?—I blinked and she was gone.”

“She was kind of hot though,” Tov said, raising a brow.

Keira rolled her eyes. “Your taste in women is directly proportional to how likely they are to murder you.”

“And yet I live for danger,” Tov said with a wink.

“She’d eat you alive,” Elira said, not looking up from the data-pad she had pulled from her belt.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he shot back.

Liri laughed, then winced. “Ow—okay, note to self, don’t laugh post-injury.”

Thalen was immediately at her side again. “Don’t push it.”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Captain Grimjaw,” she teased. “I’ll sit still. Scouts honor.”

“You weren’t a scout.”

“Exactly. So you should be worried.”

Caius, still leaning near Sereia, finally spoke. “We’re not just dealing with a strong team. We’re dealing with a cause.”

Everyone turned to him.

“Zayen’s not just playing games. He believes in whatever it is they’re doing. And his team? They believe in him.”

Sereia’s eyes narrowed. “And that kind of conviction makes them more dangerous than any weapon.”

“They’re fanatics,” Keira said flatly. “Controlled, loyal fanatics.”

Nael leaned back. “The empath girl with them? She locked onto Liri mid-fight. Like she knew exactly where to strike to throw us off.”

“And the big guy—Rhaz?” Keira added. “He nearly crushed Tov. Not that I minded.”

“Excuse me?” Tov said, offended. “He dented my chestplate and my ego.”

“You don’t have an ego,” Elira said. “Just a loud mouth and fragile pride.”

“Why are we roasting me when the real enemies are out there?” Tov groaned, flailing.

Sereia glanced down at her gauntlet, fingers brushing the small cracks from earlier. “We’ll have to counter them the same way. With trust. Coordination. No hesitations.”

“Matching chaos with strategy,” Caius said, looking around the room. “That’s how we win.”

Liri raised a hand weakly. “Can strategy involve fewer broken ribs next time?”

“We’ll try,” Thalen replied softly.

A beat of quiet passed before Keira looked around. “So... are we just not gonna talk about how Zayen called that whole thing a ‘welcome party’? What’s next? A birthday bash with landmines?”

“Elira better bring balloons,” Nael said.

Elira deadpanned. “Mine explode.”

Tov grinned. “Perfect. Festive and deadly. Just like our team.”

Everyone groaned—but the tension was lighter now, shared through humor and unspoken understanding.

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...END OF CHAPTER 4...

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